For the Love of a Vicomte
by Shandethe Sanders
Summary: The Raoul fans are back, with plenty of random musical numbers and unbridled love for Raoul de Chagny.
1. Prologue

For the Love of a Vicomte

(A/N: The opinions reflected in the story below are the opinions of the author and her cohorts, who are always right. Any resemblance to individuals living or dead is absolutely, totally, and utterly on purpose. We're bored Raoul fans with nothing to read, so we have to make our own fun.)

  
"Oh, no!"  
  
"Quick, somebody call the fire department!"  
  
"Meg? Meg, are you okay? Talk to us!"  
  
Alexis, Estella and the other Rabid Admirers were standing just below a pair of legs that seemed to emerge from the ceiling. Bits of scattered plaster dust and other assorted chunks of debris were all over the place.

"I'm fine," Meg replied, her voice somewhat muffled by the remaining ceiling. "If someone could help me down?"

"What happened?" asked Julie, who had just entered. The sight of a pair of jeans sticking out from the ceiling was _not what she had expected to see. Then again, Meg was known for her explosive reactions._

"She just read about the Raoul/Christine sex scene rumor in the upcoming film," Estella explained wearily.   
  
"I mean, _come on!"_ Meg shouted, her voice somewhat muffled by the ceiling. "It was 1881! People didn't just haul off and do it, especially not a guy like Raoul and a girl like Christine! I don't object to seeing Raoul sans clothes, but really! And I'm not sure, but I think Joel Schumacher was somewhat influenced by F…Fred…the Double-F word. He Who Must Never Write a Sequel!"  
  
"You mean Frederick Forsyth?" asked Gypsy, one of the newest members, very innocently.

"I doubt it—if so, Raoul wouldn't be getting it on at all," Lexie said darkly.

Meg dropped from the ceiling, landing hard on the ground in a shower of plaster. Mercifully, she hadn't heard Lexie's comment.

 "Ow…Gypsy, what did I tell you about that foul language?"

Gypsy laughed. "Hey, we had to get you down somehow."  
  
"Oh, ha ha. Next time, do it without causing me further injury, okay?" She rounded on the other Admirers.

"Ladies, we can't allow this! They _cannot make a Phantom film influenced in any way by the travesty known as 'Phantom of Manhattan'! Did anyone read that swill those Phans tried to pass as a possible movie script? Switching toilet paper is no longer enough! Gaston Leroux would be doing triple axels in his grave if he could see what's been done in his name! With novels like that receiving publishing rights, how can we ever expect decent Phan fiction, let alone a decent movie?"_

Once again, music from nowhere began to play. The Admirers got out a broom and dustpans, and begin to clean up the plaster mess.
    
    _"At the end of Forsyth, you're ten minutes older_
    
    _ And that's all you can say, you can't expect more_
    
    _ Why should it be a war?_
    
    _ Is the cash even worth giving?_
    
    _ One more day searching about, what it is it for?_
    
    _ Good thing Leroux's no longer living!"_

"Take that, Forsyth!" Manon cried. She paused, and turned to the others. "Do you think we're being too blunt?"

"Well, the first story was just us being silly," Meg replied. "While also making an accurate commentary. We'll do that here, too, but we're gonna try harder to get our point across."  
  
She turned to the readers. "Got that?"

"We have to stand our ground, for truth, beauty, freedom and love!" Kim cried, spreading her arms wide.

"That's Moulin Rouge," Rusty pointed out. "We're for the general improvement of Phan fiction, and the ethical treatment of Raoul."  
  
"Not to mention a non-crappy film version," Cheryl added.

Estella shuddered. "I know. A sixteen-year-old Christine? A thirty-something Phantom? Why don't they just subtitle it 'The Roman Polanski Story' and be done with it?"

"It's enough to make me want to wreck another ceiling," Meg put in.  
  


"Don't," Lexie cautioned. "This is the third one this week. I don't know if our insurance covers the double-F word."  
  
"In that case, we'll have to review the policy. See if it covers Becky L. Meadows, too," Sharon replied.

Meg's eye began to twitch. "She made Raoul _stocky! STOCKY!"_

"Calm down, Meg," Rusty soothed. "Inhale, exhale…"  
  
Meg sighed, and obeyed. "Before I hit the roof, what were we discussing?"  
  
"The annual snowball fight between Erik's Estrogen Brigade and the Society of R.A.O.U.L.," Estella replied.

"Oh yeah."

"We should make a rule against iceballs this year. It got really ugly the last time. Plus, I never know which side to fight on. I love Raoul, but I love Erik, too!" Sharon said.  
  
"I know!" Lexie cried. "Why can't we have both?"

She struck a pose, and promptly burst into song.

_"Bring on those Phantom men!_

_ And we'll begin the sin_

_ So shout above the din_

_ Don't wait another minute!"_

The other Admirers joined in, striking their own poses.

_"Sing with us!  
 Or eat our dust!_

_ So let's sing one more time_

_Bring on the Phantom men…"_

Estella stepped forward, and twirled around.

_"Raoul steals our hearts…_

_ Erik steals our souls…_

_ Wearing clothes is an art_

_ To those beautiful, sexy men!_

_ I suppose a mask by any other name…_

_ The blond hair or the mask, the feeling's the same!"_

"That was fun!" Lexie said, as applause from an invisible audience rang out. 

"It's always great to sing the praises of Erik and Raoul, when you don't have to choose between them," Meg replied. 

Rusty elbowed Meg playfully in the ribs. "We all know who _you'd pick."  
  
"True…but I'd at least do eenie-meenie-minie-moe first." Meg sighed. "Of course, Phan fiction doesn't really give us a choice, does it? It's pretty much Erik, Erik or Erik."  
  
"That's 'cause he's wicked cool and wears a mask," Julie put in._

"Sure, but Raoul has his good points, too," Meg replied. "But you'd never know that from all the Phan fiction out there. Geez, how many books and fanfics of the same plot are we supposed to swallow?"

The room darkened, and a spotlight lit on Meg, who donned a long black cape for no apparent reason. She took hold of the microphone, and began to sing.

_"I've been searching for an original Phic_

_ Maybe R/C, just for a kick_

_Since I've read all the E/C I can possibly stand_

_Meadows just sucks__, and Forsyth should be canned_

_All I want is creativity, that's what I need_

_It's for that reason, this crusade I lead!"_

"Hang on," Kim broke in. "Are you planning on going around biting people and drinking their blood until they write a different plot?"  
  
Meg stopped singing, and the spotlight turned off abruptly. "Is that a bad idea?"  
  
"Well, there might be legal issues, especially if you sing that song while doing it."  
  
"What if I just do it to Joel Schumacher? I can leave out the singing," Meg suggested hopefully.

"Curb those bloodthirsty instincts," Estella advised. "At least until after we can hire a new lawyer. The old one collapsed from exhaustion, remember? Besides, you faint at the sight of blood."  
  
"Oh yeah…"

That was when the midi alarm went off.

Lexie raised an eyebrow at her fellow Admirers. "Shall we?"

The Admirers promptly donned matching soldier uniforms, exact replicas of the one Raoul wore for the 'Masquerade' sequence. They dashed to the center of the room, as the music swelled around them.

_"Say you'll share with me one blond, one vicomte_

_ Say the word, and we will defend you!  
 Raoul needs our love, now and always_

_ We promise that all we say is true_

_ Even though we love our Erik, too!"_  
  
(A/N: Songs parodied so far: "At the End of the Day" from _Les Miserables, "Original Sin" from __Dance of the Vampires, "Bring on the Men" from _Jekyll and Hyde_, and if I have to tell you what the last song is, a Punjab lasso should be around your neck.)_


	2. Raoul's Dilemma

Chapter Two: Raoul's Dilemma

The Admirers stared in disbelief.

"It's not my color, is it?" Raoul asked darkly, turning around so his fans could see the back of the bright pink cabaret dress he wore.

"Actually, it's not that bad," Alexis said, her eyes still as large as dinner plates. "It shows off your legs, anyway…"  
  
"We must find this evildoer!" Meg roared, pumping her fist in the air. "We will find them, and smite them down—oh yeah, your legs do look great, Raoul…"

Raoul sighed. "I appreciate the compliment, mademoiselle, but I'm afraid that this outrage was committed by a Phan fiction author, who deemed it necessary not only for my wife to leave me, but to put me in an embarrassing dress as well."

"It could be worse," Kim replied.

"How so?"  
  
Julie whispered in his ear. 

_"What?!"_ Raoul roared, and stormed behind the screen of his bedroom. "I'll kill that Double-F word!"

He exchanged the bright costume for something a bit more masculine, emerging clad in black pants and a white shirt, buttoned only halfway up. This left plenty of room for admiration of his beautifully sculpted collarbone and the beginnings of well-formed muscles.

"Water," gasped Estella, and fell over. A crash behind her indicated that Meg had also lost consciousness.

While Sharon tended to the fallen Estella and Lexie tried to revive Meg, Raoul flopped down onto the sofa. "It all started when some strange girl started calling me a fop. I told her she had me confused with my brother Philippe, but she was adamant. Then I tried to explain that as a nobleman I _have_ to dress nicely, but she wouldn't hear it."  
  
"Well, she was probably confused by all the portrayals in Phan literature," Kim pointed out. "Because in Leroux, you have a girlish complexion and that's really about as far as the fop thing extends. Hell, other than that, you're a pretty average guy."

"Thanks," Raoul said with a wry smile. 

"Besides, in Susan Kay, Erik says he never wears the same suit twice," Manon remarked.

Suddenly Meg leaped up from the floor of Raoul's flat onto his coffee table, scaring Lexie and knocking several newspapers to the ground.  "This ridiculous misconception must end! We will put a stop to it!"

Kim hit the 'Play' button on the boom box, and Meg began to sing and improvise dance moves, a la the Supremes.
    
      _" Fop_! In the name of Leroux!__
    
    _      That isn't what Raoul's about_
    
    _      Fop! It's a silly view_
    
    _     It's enough to make a Phan shout_
    
    _     Think it over_
    
    _    Think it over…"_

"I do appreciate your efforts, ladies, but Phans must make up their own minds," Raoul said. "Though I wish they could do so without forcing me to wear ridiculous clothes, or have me sleep with one or both of the managers." He shuddered violently. "I knew getting that cable modem would be a bad idea…"

"The worst part is the insinuation that because we love you, we are less of a Phan than others who only like Erik," Estella said with a sigh. "We love you both, for cryin' out loud! Every character in the novel or musical is important, and we love every friggin' one of them. If that's not a Phan, then I don't know what is!"

  
"Well, you are members of an organization that bears my name," Raoul said with a smile.

"That's because you were in need of defending," Meg replied. "And the amount of abuse you get is ridiculous in comparison to what you actually do in the novel and musical. Besides, you're a great character!"  
  
Raoul blushed, and the Admirers chuckled.

"So, where is this Phan fiction author?" Lexie asked, now that her heart had successfully restarted. 

"I'll show you," Raoul replied, standing up.  
  
"Okay!"

"Hm, we need an inspirational musical number," Meg said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "What can we…wait, I've got it!"

The Admirers gathered around the coffee table, while Raoul backed away, knowing better than to interfere with the random musical numbers.

_"We Raoul fans will never tire_

_ We will survive!_

_ So you'd better take cover, as long as we're alive!_

_ We'll defend our Underrated Lover_

_ That's when we truly thrive!_

_ Get ready to meet us, because we're about to take…the dive!"_

(A/N: Songs parodied are "Stop! In the Name of Love" by the Supremes, and "Falcon in the Dive" from The Scarlet Pimpernel" And to this day, I fail to understand the fop thing. No, really! It's like calling Erik a serial killer, don't you think? Alright, so he kind of was in the Dario Argento version, but that's beside the point. It's a gross exaggeration—in the Argento version, _literally gross. When I get around to it, I'm switching _his_ toilet paper, too. Erik doesn't deserve to be abused any more than Raoul. And yes, more is on the way.)_


	3. The Invasion

Chapter Three: Invasion

  
Raoul stood on a ragged outcropping of rock, his cloak flapping madly in the growing winds.

"Are…we….there…yet?" gasped Meg, whose entire athletic ability consisted of the improvised dance moves required for random musical mayhem.

"Almost," Raoul reassured her. "Do you see that castle?"  
  
As if to illustrate his point, a massive bolt of lighting struck, illuminating the very large, sinister-looking castle on the mountaintop ahead.

"I didn't know Count Dracula wrote Phan fiction," L'Ange de Folie said, wiping the sweat off her brow.

Lexie jumped up and down. "Ooh, maybe it's Count von Krolock!"  
  
Meg blanched. "Eww, blood." She shuddered, then composed herself. "Okay. Everybody ready?"  
  
"Yes," the Admirers chorused.

"Good. Let's go, ladies!"

Getting inside the castle was fairly easy, with little question as to where the inhabitant was. In the highest tower, of course!

The Phan fiction author sat at her computer, typing and cackling to herself.

"Mwa ha ha ha! Raoul's in a dress, Erik and Christine are happily making babies in their underground home, what could be better?" she asked. "Best of all, there are no lousy fop fans to screw it up!" Another bolt of lightning struck.  
  
That was when the music began.

  
"Huh?"

A group of strangely clad girls stood in the doorway. Upon closer inspection, they seemed to be wearing shiny armor and holding swords, which they held aloft as they began to sing.

_"Hear me, Erik and Christine fans, and bashers of Raoul:  
 All your dastardly typings are past!_

_ You don't scare us, we won't throw in the towel  
 And respect shall triumph at last! _

_We are, we, Rabid Admirers,  
The fans of Le Vicomte,  
When our sweet vicomte calls, off we go!  
And the love of our blond boy  
Will carry us onward ...We won't abandon him, no ...  
Now this is our little show ...  
Onward to glory we go! "_

"What the—" the Phan Fiction writer exploded. "Get out, Fop-Lovers! See the sign? It says, "Not for Fop Lovers!"

"What is this, Phan segregation?" Estella asked, stepping out of her armor. The others followed suit. (Get it? Suit of armor? Suit…oh, forget it.)

"Didn't we already go through this?" Gypsy asked wearily. "Raoul's not a fop, so technically speaking, your terminology is flawed. We're Rabid Admirers, bearing no connection to so-called 'fop fans'."

"Unless you're talking about Percy Blakeney," Manon put in.  
  
"What do you want?" the Phan Fiction writer demanded, standing up to shield her computer.

"To read something other than E/C would be nice," Meg replied. "Also, to read something that doesn't abuse characters and twist them horribly into morbid contortions of—"  
  
"Whoa. Relax, Meg!" exclaimed Julie. Meg was gesturing fiercely with her sword, and it flew out of her hand and hit the wall with a loud clang.

"Oops."  
  
Estella sighed. "At least it wasn't a ceiling."  
  
"The night is young," Sharon remarked.

"But I _like_ Erik and Christine, they belong together!" The Phan Fiction author cried.

"They why didn't Gaston Leroux put them together?" Gypsy asked practically.

"Um…"

"Writing what you like isn't a bad thing," Katey pointed out. "But you don't have to make Raoul look bad to make Erik look better. It's much more interesting if they're equal rivals. If one is a total loser, where's the suspense?"  
  
"But Raoul's a f—"  
  
"Watch that language!" Kim yelled. "Don't say the 'f' word!"

"What, fop?" The Phan Fiction author asked. "But Raoul is a total jerk! It says so in all this Phan Literature—and the ALW musical…"

Meg sighed, and glanced at the stack of Phan Literature books on the Author's desk. "I hope the original Leroux novel is in there somewhere?"  
  
"Yes…" the Author answered warily.  
  
"Okay, then keep that and use the rest for when you run out of toilet paper." Meg said calmly.   
  
"EW!" Kim groaned. "What is it with you and toilet paper, anyway?"  
  
Meg barreled ahead. "In the ALW musical, it all depends on the actor playing Raoul. If he sucks, and doesn't do much with the role, then you get a lousy Raoul and go home cursing his name. Lexie," she said, turning to her cohort. "Bring out the secret weapon."  
  
Lexie handed Meg a CD, which she passed to the Phan Fiction author.   
  
"All I Ask Of You" performed by Steve Barton and Sarah Brightman," she read.   
  
"How can anyone hate Steve Barton's portrayal of Raoul?" Estella asked. "Of course, Michael Ball sings it beautifully, too."  
  


The Author studied the CD warily. "Will this turn me into a fop fan?" 

"About as much as eating a croissant will make you French," Kim replied. "And once again, we are not fop fans. For cripe's sake, read Leroux! Raoul isn't remotely foppish except for the girly skin part! Whatever those other hacks—" she pointed with obvious scorn in the general direction of the stack of Phan Literature, "—have written about him isn't worth jack."

"But Raoul is so selfish, and he keeps Christine and Erik apart!" the Author cried.

"That wouldn't take a whole lot," Meg pointed out. "Since Christine and Erik didn't have the world's most stable relationship. And Raoul couldn't help loving Christine any more than Erik could."  
  
"But Erik needs her love more, because he's all deformed and lonely. I mean, Raoul could get another girl!"

Estella groaned. "Raoul can't help what he looks like any more than Erik can. He could get another girl, but why? He loves Christine!"

"No, he loves her voice!" the Author argued.

"The same could be argued for Erik," Katey pointed out. "But that's not our main concern here. All we want is to read something other than E/C. There are too many of them, and they're all exactly the same."  
  
"Far be it for us to turn you into a Rabid Admirer," Lexie added, "But we would also like to read something different. It's all fine and good to write what you like, but at least be fair to all the characters. You don't have to tear down Raoul just to make Erik look better. That doesn't create a suspenseful love triangle."  
  
"More like a love line, if it's just Erik and Christine," Meg said thoughtfully. Then her face slid into an evil grin. "Love line….hm…"  
  
"What's she doing?" the Author asked nervously.

Rusty shook her head. "Better not to ask, my friend."  
  
"Raoul, hit it!"  
  
Raoul, who had been standing just outside the door of the room, responded to Meg's call. He promptly hit the 'PLAY' button on the boom box.

The other Admirers broke into an eighties-style hip-shimmying dance sequence, dressed in glittery B-52's gear. 

_"The Love Line is a silly plot that's more worn than my shoe leather!_

_ Love line, baby! Love line, bring a new plot to bat!_

_ Writin' and a readin', waitin' and a hopin', praying all for nothing_

_ 'Cause it's all the same thing!_

_The Love Line continues, the Love Line keeps goin'_

_Around and around and around and around!_

_"Fop, fop!__ We've heard it all before, honey!_

_ Be more creative, sugar!_

_ Fop, fop! Now we're aching to the core, honey!_

_ Fop, fop!_

_ We need what?"  
  
_

Sharon and Rusty lifted Manon onto their shoulders, and she cried out:

_"A different plot…NOW!"_

The Author stared in disbelief. "How do you guys do that? With the costumes and the music and…"

Estella chuckled. "We could tell you…but then we'd have to make you one of us."  
  
"ARRRGGGH! Never mind!"

The Admirers and the Author exchanged glances, and began to laugh. Raoul strode out, still holding the boom box.

"Ack! The F—I mean, the Vicomte," the Author exclaimed.

Raoul grinned wickedly. "Let me teach you my foppish ways….bwa ha ha ha!"__

"I told you he was evil!" the Author cried, ducking behind Rusty and Cheryl.

"What are you looking at us for, you chowderhead?" Rusty asked. "We're on _his_ side."

"Oh. Crap."

"Calm down, mademoiselle," Raoul said kindly, once he had halted the evil laughter. "I don't know of any foppish ways to teach you, so you are safe in that regard. I would, however, like to request that you never put me in a dress again. It's highly undignified. Whom Christine chooses to love is her own affair, although I certainly hope that it is me. Still, I don't think it's asking too much to keep me in character, if you feel the need to write about me at all."

"Oh, fine," the Author agreed grudgingly.  "Well…I guess I could write a story about Erik's father…or maybe even the Persian."  
  
"Oooh, daroga romance!" Gypsy cried. "That would be so cool!"

"And you wouldn't have to write Raoul in at all," Meg said. "He's got much less chance of being abused that way."

"I still don't like him," the Author replied.

L'Ange de Folie covered Raoul's ears. "You don't need to hear this, honey."

"You don't have to," Lexie informed her. "Just respect his character, that's all. If you respect Erik, then respect Raoul and Christine as well."

"Well, I guess I can do that," the Author said reluctantly. 

"Good enough for us!" the Admirers exclaimed.

"Did we miss the final number?" a deep, entrancing male voice inquired.

 Erik and Christine entered from the doorway. The Author's eyes filled with stars at the sight of her beloved masked man.

_"He's here, the Phantom of the Phanfic!"_ the Admirers sang.

"Raoul!" Christine called, and they flew into each other's arms.

"Um, what the hell?" Kim ventured.

"Interesting story," Erik said dryly. "One of these days, I shall have to change the locks on the door to my underground home. It seems like just about any sod can walk in whenever they feel like it. Of course, when they are beautiful Marie-Suzettes, the problem is twice as bad. It's worse than rats, honestly. How am I supposed to get any brooding done if this continues?"

"But don't you want romance?" the Author asked, finding her voice.

"Of course," Erik replied, bowing his head to acknowledge her. "If you can give me romance without turning me into some mushball in a mask. I _do have a reputation as a dangerous man to uphold, you know. If you have anyone in mind…"  
  
"How about a hot gypsy?"  
  
"I like that!" Gypsy squealed._

  
"NOT YOU!" the Admirers admonished. (Ah, how I love alliteration! No offense, Gypsy, we love you.)

"Very well," Erik said with a smile. "But please, at least portray her realistically."

"What about Christine?"

"And what about her?" Erik asked, watching as Christine and Raoul kissed. "I loved her, and I always will. But there are different kinds of love, my dear. Some can last and some cannot. Use your judgment, if you are able."

The Author hugged him. "I wish you could be happy, Erik."  
  
"That is very kind," Erik replied, looking momentarily touched. "And I thank you, my dear. At the moment, I am quite close to that emotion. The only thing that would complete it is…" 

"A closing random musical number!" the Admirers, Christine, Raoul and the Author chorused.

Without warning, music began to blast from the walls of the tower, and the group struck individual poses.

Raoul burst into song.

  
_"It's astounding  
 Words are fleeting  
 Cliches  takes their tolll…  
 But listen closely_  
  


Christine joined in.

  
"_Not for very much longer!"_  
  
The Admirers and Erik joined in, his booming baritone voice interweaving beautifully with the girls' voices.

  
"_I've got to keep control_

_ I remember learning acceptance  
 Praying for moments when_

_I could see POTO characters represented fairly…"  
 _  
Everyone burst into a perfectly synchronized dance routine, a la Rocky Horror. (What else?) Even the Author was having a blast, dancing near her elegant Phantom.

   
"_And the Phics would be calling…"_  
  
"_Let's respect Leroux again!  
 Let's respect Leroux again!_

_ It's a Classic book_

_ Full of Gothic might!_

_ With all kinds of 'ships!_

_ There's no need to fight!_

_ But it's the intolerance that really drives us insane!_

_ Let's respect Leroux again!_

_ Let's respect Leroux again!  
_   
The Author danced around Erik, singing:

_"He's so dreamy!_

_ Oh Phantom, please free me!_

_ I  adore him, so dark and tall!_

_ Although I must mention_

_ We need Raoul for romantic suspension!_

_ Could it be—he's not so bad after all?_

She looked a bit unsure of herself, but shrugged, and smiled as the Admirers applauded her, and burst into their own refrain.

_"With a little acceptance of other 'ships_

_ You're into the 'moral lesson' slip!_

_ And  we won't be ashamed!_

_ Of loving one of Leroux's creations_

_ No, we're NOT under sedation!_

_ Let's respect Leroux again!_

_ Let's respect Leroux again!_

    
 _Well I was watching POTO just havin' a thinik!_

_ When that blond vicomte gave me such a wink!  
 He shook-a me up, he took us by surprise  
 He had a ripped-up shirt and gorgeous eyes!  
 We stared at him and we felt a change  
 Time meant nothing, never would again_  
 _Let's_ respect Leroux again!__

_ Let's respect Leroux again!_   
  


"_Let's respect Leroux again!  
 Let's respect Leroux again!_

_ It's a Classic book_

_ Full of Gothic might!_

_ With all kinds of 'ships!_

_ There's no need to fight!_

_ But it's the intolerance that really drives us insane!_

_ Let's respect Leroux again!_

_ Let's respect Leroux again!_  
  


The music stopped, and the Admirers, Author and main cast sank to the floor.

  
"So, do you think we were too subtle?" Lexie asked innocently.__

(A/N: Songs parodied: "I, Don Quixote" from _Man of La Mancha, "Love Shack" by the B-52's, and "Time Warp" from __Rocky Horror Picture Show. Stay tuned, a bonus chapter is up next! I would like to take this opportunity to say that this story is dedicated to promoting tolerance in the Phandom, which is sadly lacking at the moment. It's a damn shame when people can't express their views without incurring backlash. This chapter in particular is for the ladies at the Society of R.A.O.U.L., who never cease to be a source of inspiration, hope, and lots of laughs to me. Thank you, girls.)_


	4. Special Bonus Chapter: Welcome to the Mo...

Special Bonus Chapter: Welcome to the Moulin Raoul!

  
"Hang on," the Author said, as she entered a darkened room. "I thought the fic was over!"  
  
"As did I," Erik remarked, stopping just behind her. "Doesn't this door lead to the exit?"  
  
"Yeah, usually. But I'm not the author of _this fic, so…"  
  
"Wait a minute," Raoul said, stopping himself just before he stepped on the back of Erik's shoe. "Since when is there a stage in the middle of your living room, Mademoiselle Author?"  
  
_

"Um, there isn't," the Author replied. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear…"  
  
"…we're in for another random musical number," Christine finished, stepping up next to Raoul.

"Right you are, madame!" Meg's voice shouted from somewhere beyond the stage."Sit down, and make yourselves comfortable while we get this last musical number out of our systems."  
  
"Why now?" Erik asked.

Estella's voice piped up. "Because she wanted to put it up with this fic, and she couldn't think of any other place for it! It's kind of a long number."  
  
"Thanks a heap, Stella," Meg muttered under her breath. After taking a moment to ponder her affronted dignity, she suddenly cried:

_"Welcome to the Moulin Raoul!"_

"Oh, Lord," the Author said, but grinned anyway. She loved _Moulin Rouge._

Meg's voice dissipated into the darkness of the theatre, and a moment later the lush velvet curtains opened to reveal a backdrop that looked suspiciously like the set of _Phantom of the Opera_. The spotlight appeared overhead, illuminating several women decked out in an array of brightly colored cabaret costumes, consisting of different combinations of feather boas, top hats, corsets, can-can skirts and high heels. Of course, this look was completed by more glitter than one could shake a stick at.
    
    "Please, please tell me Christina Aguilera isn't going to appear," Christine whispered fearfully. Raoul reached for her hand, and she took it.
    
    The music began to play from somewhere offstage, and the Admirers began their rather scandalous dance sequence.
    
    _"Hey, vicomte, go vicomte, soul vicomte, flow vicomte_
    
    _ Hey, vicomte, go vicomte, soul vicomte, go vicomte"_
    
    _ We met our vicomte down at the Opera Populaire_
    
    _ He was lookin' so fine on that street_
    
    _ We said, "Hello, stylish man with lovely blond hair"_
    
    _ You wanna give it a go? Oh!_
    
    _ All we want is Raoul, da da (hey, hey hey)_
    
    _ Any other boy just won't do _
    
    _ Better than a cappuccino mocha_
    
    _ Vicomte Raoul de Chagny!_
    
    _ Nous sauverez-vous ce soir, ce soir?_
    
    _ Nous sauverez-vous ce soir, ce coir?_
    
    _ Nous sauverez-vous ce soir, ce soir?_
    
    "Wait," Lexie said, suddenly halting her dance. "What does that mean?"  
    
      
    
    "It means, 'will you rescue us tonight'," Meg replied. She brandished her baton in a violent manner. "Unless Babel Fish lied to me…"  
    
      
    
    "Um, ladies, we are in the middle of a number, in case you forgot," A.J. put in.
    
    "Oh, right."  
    
      
    
    The dancing resumed.
    
    _Well, Raoul saw Christine as she freshened up_
    
    _After that gala event, he didn't even need wine_
    
    _'Cause right then he knew, she was the girl he would seek_
    
    _No matter what those others say, WE know he's not weak!_
    
    "Raoul, honey, what's the matter?" Christine asked, handing Raoul handkerchief.   
    
      
    
    Raoul brushed the moisture from his eyes. "I…just had something in my eye, that's all," he said huskily.
    
      
    
    "How sweet. The vicomte is touched by his fans' gesture," Erik said with a smile.
    
    "Oh, be quiet."
    
    _"All we want is Raoul, da da (hey, hey hey)_
    
    _ Any other boy just won't do _
    
    _ Better than a cappuccino mocha_
    
    _ Vicomte Raoul de Chagny!_
    
    _ Nous sauverez-vous ce soir, ce soir?_
    
    _ Nous sauverez-vous ce soir, ce coir?_
    
    _ Nous sauverez-vous ce soir, ce soir?_
    
    The melody changed a bit, as it took on more of a rap feel. The Admirers' dance sequence changed accordingly, as they hip-hopped around the stage. 
    
    _ "Oh, yeah, aw,_
    
    _  We love our vicomte with his hair of gold_
    
    _  And we don't care what others say, Raoul is not gay!_
    
    _ We're Raoul's women, don't need to say more_
    
    _ Erik's all right, but we love Raoul to the core!_
    
    _ Disagree? Well that's fine, and we're sorry_
    
    _ E/C is more played out than Atari_
    
    _ We'll wear our high heeled shoes, get love from that vicomte so cool_
    
    _ The badass chicks of the Harem Raoul!_
    
    _ Hey, vicomte, soul vicomte_
    
    _ Gotta take off that shirt, vicomte_
    
    _ Hey, Raoul, you better move fast_
    
    _ 'Cause we don't want to wait, so you better not be late_
    
    _ We want Raoul de Chagny, da da_
    
    _ Better than cappuccino mocha! _
    
    _ Vicomte Raoul de Chagny!_
    
    _ (One more time, come on)_
    
    _R.D.C..._
    
    _Vicomte__ Raoul de C...._
    
    _R.D.C...._
    
    Manon and Rusty took center stage, as the other Admirers struck poses around them.
    
    _"Hey, hey, hey!___
    
    _ He dreams of her touch, oh so silky smooth_
    
    _ The color of marble and ice, alright_
    
    _ Makes our savage beast inside_
    
    _ Realize we need to write_
    
    _ More, more, more!_
    
    _ Now he's watching at that old opera house _
    
    _ Living his aristocratic life_
    
    _ But when he goes to sleep, his harem creeps_
    
    _ And they continue to write, more, more, more!_
    
    _ All we want is Raoul, da da (hey, hey hey)_
    
    _ Any other boy just won't do _
    
    _ Better than a cappuccino mocha_
    
    _ Vicomte Raoul de Chagny!_
    
    _ Nous sauverez-vous ce soir, ce soir?_
    
    _ Nous sauverez-vous ce soir, ce coir?_
    
    _ Nous sauverez-vous ce soir, ce soir?_
    
    Meg took center stage, twirling and spinning.
    
    _ "Come on now!_
    
    _  Sing it, Manon!_
    
    _  Let's go, __Sharon__!_
    
    _  Cheryl and Nicole..._
    
    _  Kim, Gypsy… _
    
    _  Julie, __Sharon__…_
    
    _  Alexis…_
    
    _  Rusty…_
    
    _  Rock on, ladies!_
    
    _  Estella!_
    
    _  Mlle. Meg here..._
    
    _ Vicomte Raoul de Chagny! _
    
    _ Ooooh, YES!"_

"Take that, Mister Holmes!" L'Ange de Folie and Lexie cried.

(A/N: Why did I write this? Because I can can can! Um, anyway, the song parodied here was "Lady Marmalade" from _Moulin Rouge_, as performed by Lil' Kim, Pink, Christina Aguilera, Mya, and Missy Elliot. On a related note, I want to take this opportunity to post an important warning: beware of this strange red-haired person masquerading as Raoul de Chagny in Sam Siciliano's _Angel of the Opera. He bears no resemblance, physically or personality-wise, with the original character from Gaston Leroux's novel. If spotted, the book should be immediately turned in to the nearest People for the Ethical Treatment of Raoul station, so that this identity thief might be apprehended. The color code for this alert  is vermillion. Meanwhile, the Society of R.A.O.U.L. is doing all it can to find and viciously maul this offending author. Unoriginal Phanfic is one thing. __Charging for unoriginal Phanfic is unforgivable.)_


End file.
